


Hold On

by CydSA



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode Related, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 21:20:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CydSA/pseuds/CydSA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night the angels fell and the world fell apart, Dean Winchester cared about only one thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold On

**Author's Note:**

> written as a coda to 8x23. Happens right after the final scene. I wanted some hurt/comfort with a slice of bunker!fic.

Dean held onto Sam as he watched the angels falling to earth in fire-bright torpedoes.

He held onto Sam as the world went dark again.

Dean held onto Sam as he helped him into the Impala, all six foot four of shivering, shaking, fever-hot brother curled into himself.

He held onto Sam as he drove hell-for-leather back to the bunker, Sam’s head on his thigh, fingers in Sam’s hair and pressing into his scalp.

Dean held onto Sam while he guided him down the stairs into the bunker and opened the door to their only place of safety.

Sam pushed away from Dean when they saw that the bunker was alive with bells and whistles, flashing lights and tinny alarms.

“What the fuck?” Dean asked.

Kevin’s backpack lay abandoned at their feet and Dean freaked out for a moment. Losing Kevin after all this was not an option.

“Kevin?” he shouted.

Kevin’s head popped up from below the stairs. “Dean!” He looked relieved. “Everything went batshit crazy about an hour ago.” He waved a hand at the panels around the main room that were suddenly making their presence known. “What the hell happened out there?” 

Sam took a step forward, heading for the stairs and his knees buckled under him. Dean managed to grab him before he took a header down the concrete steps. “I got you,” he told Sam and they stumbled down towards Kevin.

The prophet’s eyes were hopeful as he stared at them. “Did you close the gates of Hell?” he asked.

Dean looked at Sam who was almost unconscious in his arms. “No,” he admitted. “It would’ve cost too much.”

Kevin’s mouth dropped open. “Cost too much?” he was practically screaming at them. “My mother is dead and you -tell me it would have cost too much?”

“I’m sorry,” Sam’s voice was a hoarse gasp and Kevin stopped shouting as he got his first look at him.

“You look like shit,” he told Sam.

Dean hitched Sam a little closer against him. “He’s been through a lot tonight,” he told Kevin.

“Yeah,” Kevin admitted with a reluctant nod, although his eyes were still a little wild. “I guess we all have.”

Dean started for Sam’s room and stopped when Kevin asked, “Where’s Cas?” 

He turned a little and looked at the kid. Despite everything he’d been through, Kevin Tran _was_ still a snot-nosed kid who had given up his life to keep them all safe. He deserved to know this.

“Cas was busy with the angel trials while Sam was doing the demon trials. He wanted to do the same thing with Heaven that we wanted to do with Hell.”

“Did he at least succeed with his plan?” 

Dean ignored the semi-sarcastic tone. He figured Kevin had every right to be pissed right now.

“Based on the angels falling from the sky, I’m guessing maybe,” Dean said. “Not sure why they weren’t all locked up tight up there, but that mystery is for another day when I’m not so fucking tired and Sam here is back to himself.”

Kevin looked between them. “I was planning on leaving tonight,” he said.

“Going where?” Sam asked the words forced from him as Dean felt him start to shake again. “We don’t know what’s out there, Kevin. You need to stay here.”

“I…” Kevin’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I don’t have a job anymore, the tablets are translated and the trials are done.”

“You shut your mouth,” Dean said, tone a little harsher than he intended. “There is no way I’m going to worry about you as well as Sam. Crowley…God knows what Crowley is right now, but if he remembers you, then he’s going to come looking.”

“Crowley’s still alive?” Kevin looked appalled. “You guys fucked up big time, didn’t you?”

“Please Kevin,” Sam begged. “We still need you to figure out what the consequences are of everything that’s happened tonight. Please, don’t leave.”

Kevin looked torn.

“Kid, I’m not coming after you,” Dean warned. “I’ve got my hands full right now and I seriously don’t need another person’s death on my conscience. Not after everything that’s happened.” He looked straight at Kevin. “You leave, we’re done. And there are no more archangels out there to protect you.”

Kevin shrugged. “I’ll figure things out,” he said. Even Dean, who was usually the last to be able to spot feelings on someone’s face, could see that he was lying.

“How about this?” Dean said. “You get your ass into your room and we can fight about it in the morning.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

Dean held his breath while Kevin obviously struggled with the dilemma of taking the easy route tonight or following through on his decision to leave.

“I don’t want to lose anyone else, Kev.” Sam’s voice was a low whisper that made Dean shiver. He needed to get him into a shower and into bed.

“Okay,” Kevin said. “I’ll stay, just for tonight. But I’m seriously leaving tomorrow.”

Dean felt the tension leave Sam’s body and he was suddenly an almost dead weight in his arms.

“Thank you,” Sam said and Dean stopped wasting time. He hauled Sam close and headed into the bathroom attached to his room.

The one thing the Men of Letters had done right, besides the kick-ass awesome of the bunker, was the showers. They were huge with massive showerheads that felt like you were standing under a rainfall.

“C’mon, dude, strip,” he ordered Sam once he’d lowered him to sit on the closed toilet. 

Sam lifted his gaze and Dean hated the red-rimmed eyes and pale cheeks staring at him. “Tired, Dean,” Sam said.

Dean realized that he was going to have to do this himself. It reminded him of when Sam had been a kid, all uncoordinated legs and floppy hair as he started unbuttoning Sam’s shirt. He smiled a little as he realized that this Sam was pretty much the same clumsy boy he’d helped to dress way back then.

“Lift your arms,” he ordered as he tugged at the hem of Sam’s undershirt. The silent obedience was more worrying than anything else and Dean grabbed Sam’s chin once he’d dropped the shirt to the floor. “You still with me, Sammy?” he asked.

Sam’s teeth were chattering and he was shaking so hard it was amazing that he was able to sit up straight. Dean held onto Sam’s shoulder with one hand and leaned over to turn on the shower with the other. 

“Pants, man,” he said and watched as Sam tried to get his jeans off. It was an exercise in futility. He brushed Sam’s hands away with an impatient sound. He refused to think of how very different it felt, stripping this adult version of his baby brother.

He pulled Sam up, back into his arms and tried to ignore the feeling of Sam’s naked body against him. “You’ll feel better in a minute,” he promised as he pushed Sam under the steaming hot water.

He bent down to pick up Sam’s discarded clothes - no need to leave them lying around - and dropped them in the laundry basket they’d discovered soon after they’d moved in here.

He turned around to check on Sam and leapt forward to stop him from sliding down the wall of the shower. “Fuck, Sam. You need to stop freaking me out like this.” He was under the shower now too, clothes getting soaked and holding onto Sam.

“Sorry,” Sam slurred into his skin, face pressed into the curve of Dean’s neck. 

“Goddammit,” Dean pushed Sam back again so that he was propped up against the wall. “Give me a few, okay? Don’t fall down.” With that order, he let Sam go and started pulling his clothes off. Fuck if he was going to be under water with wet jeans climbing up his crack.

He didn’t think about the fact that he was naked in a shower. With his brother. Not until Sam’s body was draped over his and his face was back in the curve of Dean’s neck.

Zachariah had called them psychotically, erotically co-dependent. Dean had always thought he was full of shit. Standing here, under a cascade of hot water, with Sam surrounding him, Dean thought that Zach the dick might have had a point.

And thinking about dicks while Sam’s cock was soft against his hip was something Dean was not going to do. His dick had other ideas though. 

Dean told himself that it had been months since he’d been laid so of course the feeling of skin against skin would awaken his libido.

But Sam was his _brother_ for fuck’s sake and this was _not_ okay.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice was a breath against Dean’s neck and he couldn’t stop the shudder. “Dean?”

Sam lifted his head then and stared at Dean. Looking into Sam’s eyes was like staring into the business end of a kaleidoscope, Dean thought and then wanted to go out and shoot something to prove that he wasn’t that much of a moon-eyed girl.

“Feeling better, Sammy?” he said, trying for nonchalant. It was hard to pull off when he was … hard… against Sam’s thigh.

“Still cold,” Sam told him, his eyes never leaving Dean’s. It took Dean a moment to realize that Sam wasn’t soft anymore. 

“Uh…” Dean said and he really meant to step back then, let Sam go and get out of the shower. Possibly go and spank the monkey in his room and _not_ think about the acres of Sam’s skin wrapped around him.

“Dean,” Sam leaned forward and touched his mouth to Dean’s. “God, want you, always wanted you.”

Dean jerked away. “What the fuck?” he asked and nearly brained himself on the shower wall trying to get away. 

Sam’s face twisted then and his mouth turned down. “Sorry,” he mumbled and the fever-bright color on his cheeks bloomed brighter. “I thought…” He shook his head. “I must really be out of it.”

He took a step towards the towel rack and swayed a little. Dean’s automatic response was to grab him, steady him, keep him upright. “No sudden movements, okay?” he said as Sam shrugged him off.

“I’m fine,” Sam told him and his gaze was unfriendly. Dean refused to think about why that made his stomach tumble in sick knots. “Just let me go and sleep.”

“I’ll help you,” Dean said and Sam held up a hand.

“I’ll be fine on my own,” he said and wrapped a towel around his hips. Dean didn’t even bother with a towel of his own as he trailed behind Sam to his room.

Sam walked slowly and carefully, using the walls as support and Dean hated that Sam wouldn’t let him help. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he’d probably fucked up again and now Sam wasn’t letting him in.

“Sam,” he tried again.

“You don’t get to be that guy,” Sam rasped as he sat down on his bed. The pallor of his skin sent shards of fear through Dean. They still had to face the consequences of Sam not completing the trials. Dean didn’t want to think about what that could mean.

Sam’s towel hit Dean in the face. “Stop waving your junk around,” Sam told him and pulled on a pair of boxers with a great deal of effort. 

Dean stood there, towel in hand and watched Sam go whiter and his breath get shorter and choppier.

“Stop being an asshole,” Dean told him and stepped into the room. “You need to stop trying to push me away.”

Sam glared at him. It was more than a little pathetic. Dean could take him with _both_ arms tied behind him. “I don’t want to talk anymore,” he said.

Dean sat down next to Sam. “Too bad.” He met Sam’s startled gaze. “So you’re hot for me, huh?” 

Sam shoved him off the bed. 

Dean stared up at his angry face. “It makes sense now,” he said. “Why you came back and got me at Lisa’s, even though you didn’t have a soul.” Sam raised an eyebrow. “You were jealous.” Sam snorted. “And your issue with Benny wasn’t that he was a vampire, it was that I trusted him, wanted to be with him.” Sam looked down at his hands. Dean was on a roll. “And Cas.”

Sam’s head whipped up. “I don’t want to talk about this, Dean.”

Dean was still bare-assed naked on the floor looking up at Sam. “Now there’s one for the books.” His heart was beating so fast and so loud he wondered how it was still inside his chest. “Sam Winchester, emo-bitch extraordinaire doesn’t want to talk.”

“And Dean Winchester, the king of denial, not the river in Egypt, does?” Sam shot back.

Dean leaned forward and put a hand on Sam’s knee. “I nearly lost you tonight,” he said, chest tight with remembered terror. “If it means that I have to talk about my feelings,” he practically choked on the word, “then I’ll talk about my fucking feelings. But I will not let you ever believe for one second that you are not the most important person in my world. Never again.”

Sam was swallowing convulsively, eyes a little glassy. “I’m your burden, I’m your responsibility,” he said.

“You’re my brother, you’re the one person I place before anyone else,” Dean insisted. He felt like this might be the most important conversation he’d ever have. Naked or clothed. “There is nothing I will not do to keep you safe, Sammy.”

Sam’s mouth trembled. “Dad trained you to feel that way.”

Dean wanted to kick his ass. He was on his knees and between Sam’s thighs before he knew what he was doing. His hands were shaking as they framed Sam’s face, pushing the long strands back and away.

“You are more than my brother, more than my responsibility,” Dean told him. Maybe Sam needed to hear this, but Dean needed to say it more. “You’re the only person I want to see every day. I hear a stupid joke and I want to tell you right away. I see a book and I think about whether it’s something you’d like to read. I eat a slice of pie and know that I’m going to bring a piece back to you. My whole goddamn life is about you, Sam.” He willed Sam to understand. “And if I had to go back to that day when the house was burning, it would still be you I’d keep safe while my world was falling apart.”

Sam’s mouth was on his before he finished the last words. The kiss was hot and desperate and salty with tears. Dean wasn’t sure who was crying. He suspected they both were. 

He let Sam pull him closer so that he could feel the hard line of Sam’s cock against his stomach. Dean pushed up and Sam made a growling noise. “Shut up, bitch,” Dean told him. “I’m too old to stay on my knees like this.” 

He knelt on the bed then, knees on either side of Sam’s hips and looked down into Sam’s face. It felt as though he was seeing Sam for the first time. The fact that he was looking at his brother as a potential fuck-buddy might have had something to do with the newness of it.

“Anything you want,” Sam gasped as Dean kissed him slowly, letting his tongue plunge into the heat of Sam’s mouth, tasting him properly.

“Anything?” Dean asked when he lifted his head. 

“Yours. All my life. Yours.” Sam swore as Dean lowered himself so that his ass was riding the ridge of Sam’s cock.

“We do this, that’s it,” Dean warned. “No more fucking around, no more apple-pie life.” He tapped Sam’s cheek with one finger. “No more normal.”

Sam’s laugh was a strained and broken thing. “We are so _very_ far from normal, Dean.”

“And let’s keep it that way,” Dean nodded. “Now, do you want me to blow you or do you want to fuck me?”

Sam came without another touch. Dean grumbled in annoyance as he bundled a sated Sam into the bed. His dick protested the lack of attention but right now, despite his irritation, Sam was Dean’s priority, even if the asshole had left him unsatisfied. 

Dean stood up to leave and Sam’s hand snaked around his wrist. “Stay,” Sam said. It wasn’t a request.

Dean sighed and climbed under the covers. Sam was a giant-ass octopus and wrapped Dean up in arms and legs and contented snores.

Dean lay awake for a while, cock throbbing and heart full. 

Sam held Dean as the angels fell to earth in their thousands, lost grace, lost memory, lost souls.

He held Dean as the night turned to morning and threads of blue and gold and pink crept through the black.

Sam held Dean as the nightmares shook him and he turned his face into Sam’s chest and muffled his shouts of terror.

He held Dean as he woke up and smiled into his brother’s eyes.

They held on to each other this time.

And didn’t let go.


End file.
